Hunter's Moon & Funeral days
by Luna Rosa
Summary: Three of his closest friends, his only friends, were dead and the responsibility lay at the feet of the only man he had ever trusted with his heart. A man who now resided in the depths of Azkaban prison. RLSB implied. Part of 'Full Moon' series
1. Chapter One

Hunter's Moon and Funeral days. 

***

Authors note: This instalment in what I have called my '_Full Moon' series in Remus-centric and includes my first original character (who I quite like but is not a Mary Sue... I don't have her spunk). As always, all praise or criticism is greatly appreciated. By the way, thanks to all your lovely reviews I have decided to write another chapter to 'Long Nights Moon and Restless Minds' I just wanted to get this one finished first, so keep your eyes open. This is implied slash only._

Dedication: Queen P, get the Kleenex ready (for tears!... I know how your mind work)

To my newest friend, and beta reader, Cari. She will slap my wrist and make me look up pronouns if I don't get this right...

Also dedicated to all those who know what it is like to grieve for a lost life.

***

Remus stood looking down at the coffins as they were lowered into the ground. His whole body was numbed to the bone and he found it impossible to show any kind of emotion. Just over a week ago his whole life had been destroyed. Three of his closest friends – his only friends – were dead, and the responsibility lay at the feet of the only man he had ever trusted with his heart. A man who now resided in the depths of Azkaban prison for the rest of his natural life. He was no doubt loosing his mind just as his victims were being lowered into the ground.

Over his shoulder he could hear howling sobs coming from Hagrid as the giant blew his large nose on a ragged scrap of tissue. Professor McGonagall tried to place a comforting arm around him, but only reached half way around his shoulders. Her eyes were stinging with tears she was trying to bite back.

Remus lifted his head and looked at the others gathered around the grave in an attempt to stave off his emotion for a while longer. It was funny to think that a week before many of these would have been celebrating the downfall of Lord Voldemort who had terrorized the wizarding world for eleven years. They had toasted 'The Boy Who Lived' without really knowing the full details of what had happened. It was only in the days following the Dark Lord's defeat that a larger picture had arisen from the ashes and the wizarding community had gone into mourning yet again for the innocent victims left in Voldemort's wake.

Remus gazed over the large lake in front of him and as always was taken in by its beauty. The chilling November sun reflected off the waves and created an ethereal feel to all the surroundings.

Remus knew that soon after they had found out Lily was pregnant James and Lily had made a list of arrangements in case something would happen to them. They had documented what they wished to happen to their belonging and a few notes for friends and family, but most touching to Remus had always been where they wanted their funeral to take place. 

It had been quite simply said, in a paragraph no longer then a few lines, that they wished their bodies to be put to rest in the place where their love had first began. Where they had met, fallen in love and begun their life together. Standing here now, Remus was sure they never believed it would be so soon; that the burial would take place only months after their son's first birthday.

Even the giant squid who resided in the lake was unusually quiet today. Remus could just make out the edges of the Forbidden Forest on the far side of the lake. He wanted with all his heart just to escape to that place now. Strange, he thought, how some things never change.

As his eyes travelled over the crowd he recognized many familiar faces. Professors who had taught him over the years were now joined by Severus Snape, who was to take up the position of Potions Master next year. Remus remembered their final Christmas in Hogwarts, when they had come down to breakfast to find Severus sitting on his own. How awful, Remus had thought at the time, to be alone at Christmas. Well now it was Remus who was alone.

Severus stood in his black mourning robes looking as always - sinister and rigid. His skin was as white as marble and his hair hung from his head in lifeless lines. Remus almost envied him his detachment from emotion. If only it was that easy for him.

Remus's eyes continued over the crowd. There were many students present as well; none seemed to mind giving up their Saturday to pay tribute to these three who had freed their lives from the fear of recent years. Many, Remus realized, wouldn't be able to remember a time before the dark lord. Maybe now they had a chance.

His eyes stopped on a head of long black hair, and a pair of blues eyes so similar to the ones he had fallen in love with, that he felt his heart ache. She was in her seventh year now, he realized. How hard had the last week been for her? How much pain was she going through as well?

A sagacious voice interrupted Remus's thoughts and he turned back to see the silver haired headmaster finishing his words to the gathered crowd. James and Lily's coffins were now in the ground, and since there was no immediate family to do the honours, Dumbledore called forward those who wanted to place soil into the ground.

All eyes turned to Remus. Everyone here knew how close the four boys had been in school and it seemed to be expected of him to say something.

Slowly, under the weight of their eyes, he moved forward. He stood on a small rise in the ground so as to be heard properly, but he didn't know what to say. 

He stayed for many moments looking out at the faces turned to him. They seemed to be willing him to speak. To say something touching and uplifting so they could find some solace in these grim events. Remus didn't think there was anything he could say; nothing could change what had happened; nothing could bring James, Lily and Peter back. Remus almost stalked off before remembering something from the past.

He lost himself in it for a moment, trying to remember how purposeful James had been at the time.

"James once told me, that he had accepted his destiny... where ever it would lead him." Remus broke off and looked at the coffins in the ground. "He said, 'There comes a time in your life when you realize, that if you stand still, life will pass you by....' James and Lily _fought for what they believed in. They followed their destiny to the bitter end... and in doing so they gave us __all a life to live for." Remus stopped again, wondering what life he would have. What did he have to live for now? "I hope that we can all live up to the sacrifice my friends made for us." Remus stopped. He was unable to continue so he grabbed a handful of soil from a nearby mound and with a silent 'goodbye' released it onto the bodies of his lifeless friends._

Tears were streaming down the faces of many people now but Remus couldn't bear to take in their emotions. He walked away as a line of people made their way to the grave side. In front of him he could just make out the figure of his Transfiguration teacher through tear-filled eyes. He dabbed at his face with the corner of his robes; the mourning robes Dumbledore had lent him only hours before.

"That was beautiful, Remus," Professor McGonagall said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. She seemed to be consoling everyone today Remus thought.

"Thanks," Remus mumbled before being accosted by large arms, which wrapped their way around his body.

"I can't believe it," bellowed the voice of the Hogwarts grounds keeper, Remus stumbled under the weight of the half giant but refused to let him go.

"Lily an' James dead – an' poor little Harry..." Hagrid snivelled onto Remus's shoulder. "I seen him, Remus. That nigh'. White an' shakin', he was an' I comforted the murderer. He wanted Harry, but I said no, so he told me ter take his bike an' ter get Harry ter Dumbledore. I shoulda known."

"He _gave_ you his motorbike?" Remus asked into Hagrid's shoulder, feeling his body shiver. Hagrid pulled away now as he blew his nose on the ragged handkerchief.

"Said he won' need it anymore... I shoulda known. Then he killed all those Muggles... and Peter." Hagrid wailed again.

"It's okay Hagrid," Remus counselled the larger man. "No one knew what he was capable of... He's paying for what he's done now."

"Remus!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed on hearing this. "You surely don't mean that. No one deserves to be near those Dementors."

"Yes, I do, Professor!" Remus said adamantly, not noticing his voice getting louder with each word. "He betrayed us all. He wasn't satisfied with sending James and Lily to their graves; he had to go after Peter as well!"

"Yes," a voice curled from over Remus's shoulder, and he spun around to see the pointed features of Severus Snape, "Strange, isn't it."

"What?!" Remus snapped.

"If Black _was_ on such a rampage," Severus accused, "It seems strange how _you survived."_

"HOW DARE YOU!" Remus bellowed as he pulled out his wand and bowled towards Severus. "I DIED THAT DAY!" 

Remus stopped within inches of Severus; his wand pointing between the other man's eyes. Rage was building up inside of Remus and he didn't know for how long he could hold onto it as he stared at the satisfaction on Severus's face.

"Temper, temper," Severus scolded. "Not unlike Black... Are you Lupin?" Severus drawled standing and watching him. 

Remus eyes widened in anger and he pulled his wand back, ready to strike Severus.

Just then a warm hand rested on top of Remus's wand hand. Remus turned his head and met those blue eyes again. 

"Don't Remus," a familiar voice implored, "not today."

The anger inside him melted in a second and all he was left with was pain and compassion for this other soul.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tears welling once more. But he was met with a shake of a head indicating that it was not needed.

"That's it Lupin," Severus chided, "listen to your little friend."

Remus was about to make a retort before Professor McGonagall cut it.

"Professor Snape, I think we should go and help the other Professors. It is going to be a long day." She promptly took Severus's elbow and guided his scornful form towards the rest of the crowd. A moment later Dumbledore clapped his hands sharply drawing everyone's attention towards him.

"If you would all like to retire to the castle, I believe the house elves have prepared us some refreshments," Dumbledore said. Remus noticed how the usually twinkle in his eyes was missing today. It had been mislaid for a long time, in fact, but the absence was more prominent today. Those who had stayed started to make their way to the castle and Remus turned to look at his companion.

Her troubled eyes looked up at him and he wanted to reach out and hold her in his arms. To tell her everything would be okay but he couldn't lie to her.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" she asked, and he nodded his head.

***

She was so much like Sirius, Remus thought. Her black hair hung down below her shoulders and her eyes were full of mischief and mayhem, though not today.

"How have you been?" Remus asked as they walked the shoreline of the lake.

She shrugged her shoulders and kicked a stone underfoot.

"Okay I guess," she answered unsurely, "It's been strange..." She threw her self down on a large rock and started skimming stones across the surface of the water. She had the look of the Black family so strongly that most people thought her and Sirius had been brother and sister. They were close enough to be and often pretended they were. Sirius had even called her his 'little sister' when he had introduced them to her in her first year. Even at eleven she didn't take too kindly to the adding of the word 'little' to the nickname.

She had come to Hogwarts when Remus was in his fifth year. And although she didn't hang around the four friends like many other tried to, she had always been accepted as more then just Sirius's cousin.

"Do you think he did it?" she asked not looking up at Remus.

"Yes," Remus replied without hesitation. 

Her head turned sharply to meet his face and Remus sat down beside her on the rock.

"Out of everyone, I thought _you would give him the benefit of the doubt." She charged._

"If there was any reason to question his guilt do you think he would be in Azkaban?" Remus defended. "He's guilty, Selma! He betrayed James and Lily as secret keeper, he killed Peter... He let us all down. He's where he deserves to be."

Her eyes started to fill with tears now and Remus realized he had never seen her cry before. Even when her mother had died the previous summer, she had managed to keep her emotions in check, but now, as the tears streamed down her face, Remus wished he could change everything to stop her pain.

"I'm sorry, Selma." Remus offered.

"Don't apologise for how you feel Remus," she said swiping at her tears. "I just can't believe it yet... He was like a brother to me! I thought I knew him!"

"So did I," Remus whispered softly. 

From where they were sitting he could see the Whomping Willow clearly. He tried to push the thought out of his mind, but Sirius had put lives in danger before. Whether he had simply been foolish, as he had tried to explain to Remus afterwards, a person had almost lost his life because of Sirius.

"They didn't tell us what happened at first; I don't know if they even knew." Selma said. "McGonagall just came into the common room and told us He had been defeated. It wasn't until Monday that we heard the full story... People kept getting owls from their family; everyone thinks I was involved in some way. Dad even wants to pull me out of school but I'm _not leaving," she said determinedly._

Remus turned at looked at the determined face of the seventeen year old beside him. He never remembered being so confident at her age, but then he wasn't a Black.

"So you haven't been 'okay'!" Remus said, repeating her reply from earlier.

"Let's just say it's a good thing I'm a Gryffindor!" She replied running her hand through her black locks. "All that courage is going to come in handy."

Remus wondered at her bravery just as he had once wondered at Sirius's. He already had enough of probing glances and questions. 

"What are you going to do with The Den?" Selma asked about the house Remus and Sirius had shared.

"I've moved out," Remus answered. "I'm living in my parents' old lodge now."

"Sirius would want you to have the house, Remus," Selma said her voice heavy with concern.

"I don't think what Sirius wants is a compelling issue anymore!" Remus shouted. 

***

Once back in the castle Remus had found the rest of the gathering in a large room off the Entrance Hall. He wandered around for a few moments, trying to make polite conversation with the old Gryffindors from his year. He noted there were only girls from the Gryffindor class of '78. In a short few days their class had been all but halved.

Most never mentioned Sirius, but those who did were met with furious replies. Remus tried to control himself, but he really just wanted to get away. He couldn't be in this place with people throwing pitying looks at him.

Remus put his goblet down on the table and was making his way towards the door when a pair of half moon glasses descended upon him.

"Ah, Remus," a friendly voice intoned. "I have been wondering where you disappeared to."

"I was talking to Selma Black, sir." Remus explained to his old headmaster.

"Ah yes, Miss Black. One of our more promising students." Professor Dumbledore replied. "I do believe, however, she has the same penchant for mischief as your friend." Dumbledore eyes twinkled faintly with their old private laugher.

"Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore but Sirius Black is _not my friend!" Remus said defiantly, his voice angry._

"Perhaps," Dumbledore replied slowly, "but it is my understanding that you were once more than that." He lowered his eyes to Remus. "Is that not so, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus broke his gaze with Professor Dumbledore, not wanting to feel the weight of this man's knowledge on him.

"I was wondering," Remus asked before turning back. "How is Harry?" his voice was now caring and concerned.

"His safety has been assured," Dumbledore answered, "and when the time comes, he will attend these classrooms as his parents would have wanted." Dumbledore indicated the rooms around his with a brief movement of his hands. "Unfortunately," Dumbledore said gravely, "their first wish for Harry's guardianship could not be granted." 

"He's better off where he is." Remus answered bitterly.

"Maybe," Dumbledore replied. "It is no secret however, that they wanted a second godfather for Harry."

Remus could feel his cheeks redden; surely Dumbledore wouldn't question his reasons for denying the opportunity. He loved Harry, that was obvious, but there was no way he could take care of a child. Especially not on his own.

"I was not a suitable choice," Remus answered.

"Was that not the decision of his parents?"

Remus could suddenly feel himself boil over with rage and grief. There was no need for this conversation, no need to plough up the past and question every decision, every action. 

They had been betrayed. Betrayed by one of their own. Couldn't Dumbledore see that?

"With all due respect, Headmaster, I am not a student here any longer and I do not have to be told about the mistakes in my past. I think I can see them quite clearly myself. So if you will excuse me, I would like to be going home." Remus could feel the tears stinging his eyes, begging to be released, but he didn't want to cry again today. Not now, not in front of everyone.

He felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder and a young voice reached his ears,

"Remus?" Selma said in a concerned voice. 

Damn this girl, Remus thought; damn her for being there just when he wanted to be alone. Damn her composure and her courage. Damn her soft voice and comforting touch.

"_I'm fine, Selma_!" Remus spat at her, knowing that it was far from the truth. "I'm _fine." Tears were welling up through his eyes. "I'm fine." Spilling down his face. "I'm fine." His body crumbled. "I'm fine." Falling to the floor. "I'm fine." Clinging to her. _

***


	2. Chapter Two

***

When Remus opened his eyes again he could see red and gold dancing before his eyes. 

At first he thought he was in the Gryffindor common room, but as he opened his eyes further he recognized it as the plumage of Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. 

He could feel a soft hand stroking his arm as he sat up slowly.

"Remus, how are you feeling?" Selma asked.

"My head hurts." Remus said trying to make his tone light. It failed.

"Drink this," she said, pushing a goblet into Remus's hands.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Just drinks it for god's sake, Remus." She said exasperated. "It'll make you feel better."

Remus pushed the goblet to his mouth and tilted it up until he felt the potion quickly pass his lips and flow down his throat. He gulped in surprise and gagged as he tasted the pepper explode in his mouth. The room came into sharper focus and his head cleared. 

"Urgh," Remus spat, handing the goblet back to Selma and wiping his mouth on his sleeve before remembering the robes were just on loan and trying to clean away the stain away. "Where did you get that?" 

"Severus Snape made it up for you," She said, putting the goblet down on the floor.

"You let me drink something that bastard made?" Remus scolded, but was greeted with a severe look from Selma.

"As much of a _bastard_ you may think he is, he's not all bad you know."

"You heard what he said earlier." Remus elaborated.

"Do you feel better?" Selma demanded.

"Well, yes," Remus realized, "but that doesn't..."

"Then shut up and be thankful he was here." She said curtly not willing to take any more of his nonsense.

She stood up from her position on the floor in front of him and put the goblet on the table. How could she be so composed Remus thought? He was falling apart - but then she had only been Sirius's cousin. She hadn't shared a room with him for seven years in school. She hadn't lived with him in a home they had made together. She had never shared his bed like Remus had. 

Remus had been betrayed so much more deeply then Selma had, but it was she who would live with the noticeable stain on her name. A few years will pass and people would forget who Remus Lupin was. They would forget that there were four boys in the friendship. They would only remember Pettigrew, Potter and Black; the two who had died and the one who had betrayed them. Everyone would remember Sirius _Black_.

"Did Dumbledore bring us up here?" Remus asked.

"Not exactly," Selma said with a small smile. "Over the years I've become quite... acquainted with this office. It seems Dumbledore trusted me enough to be able to get you here on my own."

Remus laughed at this, almost commenting that Sirius would be proud, but bit it back just in time.

"I didn't mean to get angry. It's just been building up I guess." Remus apologized.

"Don't worry about it," Selma shrugged. "There are two rules to funerals in my family. There has to be at least one fight... and you have to get rip roaring drunk."

With that she pulled a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky from under her robes.

"Where did you get that?" Remus asked surprised.

A smile played on Selma's lips. She placed the bottle onto the table and summoned two glasses from the other side of the room. 

"I believe the answer to that lies behind the statue of a hump-backed witch on the third floor." 

"I don't believe it," Remus laughed as she poured the liquid into a glass and handed it to him. "When Dumbledore said you were promising I had no idea he meant this!" 

He tried knocking back the whiskey as Selma poured one for herself, but it was so strong that he felt himself almost cough mid-gulp. He managed to swallow the rest of the mouthful before feeling tears of shock rising to his eyes. 

"Dumbledore said that?" she asked and Remus nodded through stinging eyes. "Hmm," she mused knocking her own drink back easily, "I always knew the old guy had a marble or two rolling around." 

Even as she said it Remus knew Selma had a lot of respect for the old wizard. She reached her hand out, and before Remus could protest had handed him another glass of Firewhisky.

"A toast," she said raising her glass, "to a _promising witch." She knocked back the second glass and started pouring a third._

"Don't you think you should slow down?" Remus asked concerned.

"Don't worry," she said, shrugging off his concern. "I can always do a Sobering Charm on myself... Besides, it's the end of an era, right?! I'll have to _behave_ myself from now on. Can't have anyone thinking I'm on the _wrong side..." she knocked back her glass and filled it again. " 'Just like her cousin' they'll say. '_Black_ by name and _Black_ by nature.' " She knocked back the fourth glass, resentfully._

Remus stood and stopped her hand from picking up the bottle again.

"I don't think so!" he said but she slapped his hand away and poured more liquid into her glass.

"Don't tell me what to do, Remus," she said bitterly. "Not when you believe them, not when you think he did it! _You of all people! You should know what he's capable of... and this... not Sirius!" she turned her head down, "not Sirius." He knew there were tears this time._

"Have you talked to anyone about this?" he asked, taking the glass from her hand. She was angry but it was anger from grief; anger at loosing her 'brother.'

"_Who_ can I talk to Remus?" she pleaded. "You are the only one who really knew him and you believe him guilty. Everyone believes he is a murderer." She slumped into one of the large chairs that dotted the office. Old headmasters looked down at her defeated form and shook their heads in sadness; even they felt sympathy for this young girl they had come to recognize over the years. "I know he used to get angry, but that wasn't the real Sirius. He was caring and funny and protective. He wouldn't harm anyone, not deliberately."

Remus knelt in front of her and looked up into her eyes.

"What about Snape?" Remus asked quietly. She was one of the few who knew about his condition. Who knew what had happened. She looked at him and raised her eyes demandingly.

"What about Snape?!" she countered, "One stupid mistake does not make him a murderer!"

"No," Remus replied in a saddened tone, "It would have made me one!"

She stared at him for the longest time, trying to feel the pain that Remus had gone through over the years. She knew that his friends had given him the only release from that pain.

"He didn't mean to," she said, pleading the case of a cousin she loved dearly.

"I know."

"He felt awful about what he'd done."

"I know." Remus stared up into her troubled eyes, tormented by a grief he knew she could never let go of.

Her face crumbled and her head fell into her hands. Under her robes Remus could see the shackled sobs ripping through her shoulders. Her pain would never be eased. She would live a lifetime of it and never feel any kind of release.

Remus moved forward and wrapped his arms around her. He rocked her in his embrace, trying to soothe her tears. It would come in time, he thought, the ability to hide her emotions better. But right now she needed to cry. She needed to let go of this early pain. He was the only one who could possibly understand and he was glad to help her through it.

When Selma moved out of Remus's arms, her eyes were red and troubled but the anger had died down to a dwindling glow. She sat back against the chair, her movements a little unsure.

"Thanks," she said. She was fiddling with her hands, not able to look up at Remus.

So much like _him_, Remus thought, but then nothing like him at all. 

A noise from outside the door indicated that they were about to be joined by a third.

The door opened and Professor Dumbledore entered the room. His eyes flicked from Remus to Selma and back again.

"Remus," he said, "I hope you are feeling better."

"Yes, Professor," Remus answered, a little self-conscious by his earlier behaviour, though Professor Dumbledore hardly seemed to register the occurrence on his face.

"Splendid, I was hoping you could stay for a moment. There is a matter I wish to discuss with you."

Remus nodded yes and Dumbledore turned his gaze to Selma. 

Her eyes were red and swollen, and as much as she swiped at them to hide the tears, it was obvious she had been crying for some time.

"Miss Black," Dumbledore said as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Would you like to stay a while longer before returning to your common room?" He asked kindly. "A game of chess perhaps?" he said indicating his set in the corner.

"No, Professor," she answered as she stood up, "Maybe next time."

"If you ever need to talk," Dumbledore offered, "you just get into some trouble." He smiled genially at the girl.

"Yes, Professor," she answered before making her way to the door.

Dumbledore turned to take a seat at his table but quickly turned again.

"Miss Black," he called and Selma turned to greet his gaze, "I believe you have forgotten something." He moved slightly and Remus saw the half empty bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky sitting on the table.

"Ah," Selma said in a surprised tone, "yes..." she summoned the bottle towards her with a flick of her wand. "Sorry, Professor."

"No harm done," he said. "But may I suggest that you stick to Butterbeer in the future? If not, Madam Pomfrey will begin to fuss over the number of Pepperup Potions she has to administer in a morning."

"Yes, Professor," Selma agreed.

With a simple nod of the head he indicated it was okay for her to go and the headmaster took his place behind his desk.

"As I said, a promising student," he told Remus. "Though a bit mischievous."

Remus smiled acquiescently as Dumbledore settled himself into his chair. It had been good to see Selma today, circumstance aside. He cared about the girl, and now realized for the first time that he may never have a reason to see her again.

"I was wondering," Dumbledore asked once he was comfortable, "when you planned on visiting Azkaban?"

He said it as simply as if he was asking Remus to go to a Weird Sisters concert.

"What?" Remus exclaimed. "What makes you think I want to go there at all?"

"It is my understanding that many people visits friends or family at least once after they have been sentenced," Dumbledore said grimly, "I think it would be better to go soon, while Sirius still has him mind."

Remus stared at his old headmaster in shock; surely he did not expect Remus to tag along on some sort of day trip.

"Remus, I think it is something you need to do."

"NO!" Remus shouted, "I'm not going there to see _him. I'd be betraying my friends. My __real friends." He added seeing the look on Dumbledore's face._

"Do you not think your allegiance should be to those you could still help, rather than the souls who have passed on?" Dumbledore questioned heavily.

"He can't be helped!" Remus countered. "Look at what he has done for god's sake; surely even you can see that!"

"I believe he is at least allowed the right of a trial," Dumbledore argued, "and if Bartemius Crouch will not provide him one legally then perhaps he can tell you what happened."

"You think he wouldn't lie to me?" Remus asked scornfully, "He has lied to me for years, Professor. He used me... got me on his side so I wouldn't question his actions, told me he cared so I would believe him. I can't believe anything he ever told me now; our whole relationship was a lie from the start." Remus took a moment to compose himself, his breathing was laboured and his face flushed. "Don't ask me to feel compassion for him on the same day I buried my closest friends. I can't feel that for him anymore."

"Do you love him?" Dumbledore asked.

"No!" Remus said forcefully.

Dumbledore took a saddened breath and looked up at Remus again.

"Did you love him?" Dumbledore asked, and this time his voice was slow and careful. It forced Remus to think about the question. The first time they had kissed, the first time they had made love. Moving into The Den. Even the day Harry was born. Remus smiled briefly in spite of himself. He drew his hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stop the memories.

"Once," he said softly, "I did."

Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair and laced his fingers together.

"Then I think you owe it to him, Remus. You owe him a fair trial." Dumbledore sat back in his chair. "I shall arrange the visit for as soon as possible. I do hope you at least find some sort of relief from it, if nothing else." 

Remus sat looking at the Professor, who had started writing a letter to The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He didn't know how the old wizard had done it, but Remus had just agreed to go to the one place he had hoped to never to see in his lifetime.

After a few minutes, Remus stood and excused himself. He made his way down the spiral staircase and through the second floor corridor. With each step he was reminded of the years he had spent in the hallways of Hogwarts. Rooms where they had classes, secret passageways they had found and documented on The Marauder's Map, cupboards they had hidden in to escape the watchful eyes of the Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch, or his cat Mrs. Norris.

Remus felt his legs moving faster and faster underneath him. Paintings were whizzing by him as he darted. ('No running in the corridors,' a monk yelled after him from one near Professor McGonagall's office.) 

By the time Remus reached the large fireplace in the Great Hall he was so worked up he nearly dropped the pouch of Floo Powder he had brought with him that morning. He threw a handful into the grate and with a roar the fire blazed into an emerald green shade.

"LUPIN LODGE!" he shouted as he stepped into the flames and felt himself being pulled down a large plug hole. He was soon spat out on the floor of his own living room. 

Remus turned himself over on the oak floor and stared up at the ceiling.

What had he just agreed to do? He didn't want to see Sirius. He couldn't face the one person who had destroyed his whole life in the most personal and painful way.

Why was Dumbledore making Remus do it? He had all but forced Remus's hand.

Hours later Remus was still lying on the living room floor when he heard the familiar flutter of wings, which announced the arrival of an owl.

Remus opened the window to a Hogwarts owl and hesitantly removed the letter attached to its leg. The owl took off into the skies without waiting for any treats.

Remus opened the letter and read the emerald writing on the headed parchment.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, first Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,   
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

_Dear Remus,_

_I have arranged with Mr. Crouch, for us to visit Azkaban tomorrow afternoon. If you could arrive at Hogwarts by 10am, we can then Floo to the nearest transport point and continue our journey to the coast. _

_I look forward to seeing you, and believe me when I say that I think seeing Sirius should help._

_Yours_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Remus put the letter aside, Dumbledore would not allow him a way out of this one, he realized.

***

As the boat edged closer to Azkaban Fortress, Remus pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders. It was more than the cold sea air that was making him feel this way. It had been just over two weeks since he had seen Sirius, but everything had changed since then. 

Their last meeting had been just before the Fidelius Charm was cast. The lot of them had gathered at 'The Den' to celebrate Sirius's birthday. Lily and James had done their best to coax Remus into coming to the party, but still, Remus hadn't wanted to attend and risk the possibility of an argument with Sirius, or worse. It was only when Lily had confronted him with the possibility of not seeing herself, James or Harry after the Charm was in place, that he had swallowed his pride and returned to his old home.

As the Fortress came more into view Remus could feel his stomach retching. He hated this place. He remembered stories of it from childhood, tales of the Dementors and the affects they have on their victims. The effects that they would have on Sirius.

Dumbledore sat at the other end of the boat, his hand trailing in the cool water. He was quieter then his usual self today, and Remus was thankful that he did not have to keep up a polite pretence for the man.

Before long the boat jolted to a stop at the Azkaban landing platform. Dumbledore stood up from his seat and placed a strong hand on Remus's shoulder, guiding him onto the platform. 

At the island gates to the prison, Dumbledore handed over their passes which were checked numerous times by the Aurors. When they were eventually satisfied that the two visitors were who they appeared to be the large doors were opened and they were allowed to enter.

The gates where at least thirty feet high and looked like burnt charcoal. The unwelcoming structure had been attacked and abused many times over the years, but it had an old magic at its core and still stood strong against the unwanted attention.

Remus watched Dumbledore pass under the gates but was unable to move his legs to follow. Dumbledore turned and looked at Remus through his half moon glasses.

"Remus," Dumbledore said in a soft, commanding voice, and with those words Remus seemed to find some strength to carry on.

He passed under the three hundred year old gates and was immediately hit with a sense of extreme depression. Near the end of a short path Remus could see a group of Dementors. They had only recently been forced back to their position at Azkaban and did not seem happy to have their freedom taken away from them.

With each step Remus could feel a heavier weight on his body. His feet felt like they had started to trudge through thick mud, and a deep darkness filled his mind.

He gasped at the emotion being pulled through his body; each step made it worse, every inch closer to the Dementors filled him with despair. He now saw two Dementors turn and looked at him. 

He could not see their faces, but he could feel their long fingers grasp around his mind. Remus tripped on the road and lurched forward. 

He reached one hand out to stop himself from hitting the ground just as the other grasped his wand. He had to form a Patronus to defend himself. In a moment Remus felt the warm hands of his headmaster grasping his shoulders.

"Remus," said his concerned voice, "are you okay?"

Remus couldn't answer him. He was trying to gather his thoughts. Trying to form a happy memory. In the past he had thought of Sirius, but that just brought more pain. He had to find something else.

"Remus?"

He thought about Hogwarts, where he had spent his happiest day, but no that had been a lie. Remus fell onto one knee. He thought about Harry, the small child who had brought so much laughter into their lives, but was now left orphaned. Remus's body hit the ground. He could only see Godric's Hollow and the ruins of the house James and Lily had died in, the knowledge of what Sirius must have done cutting into his heart like a knife.

Remus felt all the warmth leave his body. It wouldn't be long now, Remus realised. The Dementors would get another soul.

"Expecto Patronum!" a voice said from somewhere above him, and Remus felt a swooping of wings over his head. He managed to lift his head far enough to see a large silver phoenix diving towards the Dementors and forcing them back. 

Remus felt his head hit the ground again just as he lost consciousness. 

Somewhere in his mind he felt his body lifting up and being carried away. He managed to open his eyes long enough to see the large gates of Azkaban over his head for the second time, but then his mind went black.

Black like night.

Black like death.

Black like his betrayer.

***

In a cell not far away the face of a young man was pressed against the bars in his small window. 

He had seen the two men enter under the gates. There was something strangely familiar about them, and as he had watched the younger fall to the ground he had felt a memory stab his heart. 

He had wanted to run out and fight back the Dementors himself. He needed to defend this man from them and what they were doing to the man but he didn't have the chance.

A silver phoenix sailed over the fallen man's head in his defence, and then the older man had easily picked him up and started to carry him away.

'No don't take him,' Sirius had thought, 'I need to see him; I have to talk to him.'

Sirius watched as they passed under the gates again. Suddenly a name appeared in front of his eyes. 

Remus.

With that he felt a sudden rush of emotion, a rush of longed for love. He had to call the man back; he had to tell Remus everything.

Sirius opened his mouth to shout the name across the island. Just as he did, the Dementors outside his door turned and fixed their gaze on him. He could only hear screaming in his head now, he could only feel despair.

As he lost control of his body yet again, Sirius fell backwards into his small cell and gashed his head open on the stone floor.

***


	3. Chapter Three

Hunter's Moon and Funeral days. 

Ten years later.

***

Remus sat in his favourite armchair beside the fireplace of Lupin Lodge. In his hands he turned a page of _A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry which had been published recently. He wasn't really enjoying it, but it was as a good a way to pass the time as any._

After another chapter he closed the report and made his way into the kitchen. He had gotten used to this solitary life he led, and found it easy to survive with little human contact. It was hard financially, but at least he didn't have to worry about where he would live. 

The house had belonged to his parents. They had bought it soon after Remus had been bitten because of the large basement, which could only be reached by a trap door in the master bedroom. When he had returned home in '81, they had readily handed the house over to him as they didn't use it anymore.

It had been a buy off, he realized at the time. It wasn't that they didn't care; they just didn't know how to deal with a fully grown adult werewolf on their own. They hadn't had to do it since he had gone to Hogwarts, and he couldn't blame them for feeling wary of the job after ten years.

So he had settled down to life alone, managing to pick up a job here and there, which kept things in order and fed him. The first year had been the hardest, he supposed. The pain had been so fresh that everything reminded him of the past. It had taken nearly three years before the dreams stopped waking him every night, and a year later he had awoken one morning and it was not until lunch that he thought about his friends. It had been a painful realization that he had been able to survive without them.

Remus poured steaming tea into his cup and returned to the warmth of the living room.

He stared into the fire for a few moments, watching the flames dance just for him. On top of the fireplace was a letter he had received the week before from his old headmaster. He always wrote anytime he felt a reminder of the young man, often just after full moon to check he was okay, or when he found some work Remus might be interested in. Each letter asked him to visit Azkaban again, to give his friend one more chance.

Remus had scorned the name every time he saw it for years, feeling the old man was trying to push him towards forgiveness. He would never speak the name or answer any questions Dumbledore would ask about that man when they were together.

Then one day a letter had arrived, and as Remus read the emerald writing he felt something was missing. He had re-read the words, wondering what it was that had been forgotten. In a soft moment of realization he understood that it was the six letters that had been in every letter since James and Lily's betrayal. 

Sirius.

In that moment and for the first time Remus allowed himself to miss his friend. He may not forgive Sirius, he may never forgive him, but he missed their times together. He missed the way Sirius could make him smile just by looking at him. He missed the little gestures or notes left around their home. His missed the nights when Sirius's scent would intoxicate him and draw him close.

He longed for those nights again. Nights when the years of betrayal and hurt would become easily forgettable, melting into pools at his feet. He would give up everything for one night held in Sirius's calming embrace. One night of safety in his arms, but Remus knew he never could, and never would forgive the betrayal.

Five years later, Remus had received a letter from Dumbledore, which now lay on the mantelpiece. It carried news that Remus had never expected to hear.

Sirius's father was dead. 

Remus had read the note and instantly packed a small bag, and soon apparated to the Black residence. He didn't know if he'd be wanted, but he felt he should be there. He had to be there if Sirius couldn't be.

***

As he had walked in the front door, which still recognized him after all these years, he had felt unsure about how he would be welcomed. The house was quiet, and it didn't feel like the house a Black family funeral would be held in. He walked down the hallway and into a kitchen he had known well from his earlier years 

In front of the sink, with her back to him, stood a figure he knew as well as the kitchen. Her shoulders had fallen and her head was bowed. He noticed his hair was almost as grey as hers was, and she was wearing her old kitchen robes.

"Emmie?" he asked softly.

The women jumped and turned.

"Oh you frightened me," she said in response to her name, before properly looking at the figure in front of her. Her face was confused for a moment before she spoke. "Remus?" 

Remus nodded and smiled slightly.

"Oh Remus," she said putting her arms around a boy she cared for so much, though he was a man now she corrected. Just as her son was. "Dumbledore said he'd write to you, but I didn't know if you'd come."

"Of course I'd come," he replied. "You were always so good to me."

"Oh, but Orson gave you boys such a hard time," she said referring to her recently deceased husband, "I thought I'd never see you again after..." She stopped before she could say the words.

"I wanted to come," Remus had explained, "but I wasn't sure if I'd be welcome." Remus told her honestly.

"You'll always be welcome in my house, Remus Lupin." She said slapping his arm with a playful smack.

"Is there no one else here?" he asked as she sat him down at the table.

"They're gone down to The Cavern for a few drinks," she said easily, "they should be back in about an hour."

Remus nodded. It might have seemed strange, he thought, for them all to go to the pub on the night before a funeral, but the Black family was never one for tradition or rules.

"How are you, Emmie?" Remus asked, concern ringing through his voice as he had reached his hand out and placed it warmly around Emmie's. She smiled at the gesture and placed her own hand on top of his.

"It was a shock," she said solemnly. "He's the youngest in generations to die. He would have been seventy in August. These last years... I don't think he ever forgave himself for what happened."

"It wasn't his fault," Remus said.

"I suppose," Emmie shrugged. "But he was always so hard on..." she stopped before saying Sirius's name. "They used to have the most awful rows, and wouldn't talk for months... Did you know we never seen him after graduation? Orson would never let me contact him... I just wanted to know everything was okay. Maybe if I had forced the issue things would have been different. I just don't understand; why would he do it Remus? He wasn't a bad child, what made him..."

She held back the tears of the last ten years, tears for her lost son that she couldn't cry; tears she could never shed for him until they turned to grief and he was completely lost to them forever.

She lifted her hand and wiped under her eyes. Then, gently tapping Remus's hand, she had looked him in the eye.

"You'll stay the night, of course," she said.

"I don't want to put you out," Remus said, then wondered why he had packed a bag.

"I'm the grieving widow, Remus," Emmie had replied. "You're meant to agree to everything I suggest."

Remus nodded this time and allowed Emmie to stand up from the table. She started making some tea, and Remus watched her work silently for a moment. She always seemed like the perfect mother to him. Not like his own. Remus reprimanded himself for that thought. His mother had been good to him, but Emmie was just like the picture he had in his head of what a mother should be. Her face was worn with care and she was so warm and loving that you longed for her to pull you into a compassionate hug. Remus felt himself warming inside at the thought.

"Is Selma here?" he asked finally.

"I'm afraid not," Emmie replied, "She's working in France at the moment and can't get away in time for the funeral, but she's going to be home in a couple of days. I can tell her you were asking for her, if you like."

Remus agreed just as the front door opened and a large group of mourners stumbled through the entrance.

***

Remus sipped the tea in his hands and picked up _A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. He was determined to get it finished before sunset. If only because he had little else to do._

He had only read a few more pages when he heard a familiar noise from his window. Remus sighed; he was sure Dumbledore had better things to do with his time then harass old students, but it seemed to be a hobby of the aged wizard's.

Remus opened the window and was surprised to see that it was not a Hogwarts owl at all, but a large Eurasian eagle owl. Her expansive wings swooped open and she alighted with poise and grace onto the top of Remus armchair.

Remus walked to the owl and removed the letter from her leg. She was very well behaved, and instead of flying off as he had expected, she waited patiently for him to open the letter.

Not wishing to get too close to this unknown animal, Remus took a seat on the couch and looked at the writing on the letter for the first time.

It was jet black and seemed to fit naturally onto the yellow parchment. Someone had taken time in addressing the letter, as the lines were perfectly parallel and the letters careful.

Remus turned the letter over and broke the black seal holding the letter shut. Two pages of writing came into his hands and he began to read. 

_Dear Remus, _

_You have no idea how good it feels to be writing your name. It has been so long, and I thought we would never meet again but I had always hoped._

_This letter has a duel purpose. Firstly I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for attending Orson's funeral. I know it meant a lot to Aunt Emmie that you still cared enough to attend, and it helped her cope with a difficult day to have Sirius's old friend nearby._

Remus flinched involuntarily at the name.

_The second purpose is a request that has been made of me and one I hope you shall be able to help with. _

_It is now nearly a decade since The Den has lain abandoned. I have always felt this was your place Remus, yours and Sirius's, but since Orson's death the deeds have been found in the Black papers. I do not know how they got here, and I would never believe Sirius handed them over. Nevertheless, Aunt Emmie has been very upset by this information. She hasn't been able to find any sort of solace in the last years, and feels it is about time that Sirius's belongings are returned home._

_Since I have returned to England, Aunt Emmie has asked me to carry out this task for her. I would not feel right in undertaking this unless I had your approval and assistance in doing so. _

_I am the only member of the family who has not completely disowned Sirius, and I would be grateful if you could help me in what I assume is a consuming job. You would know the things that were important to Sirius, and I wish Aunt Emmie to have these._

_I have told Star to wait for your reply, as I am unsure whether you have an owl or not. _

_Please Remus, you are the only one I have to turn to. I know it has been many years since we have seen each other but you were always very close in my thoughts and I shall never forget how you comforted me that day in my seventh year, even though you must have been in so much pain already._

_I look forward to seeing you, Remus._

_Love_

_Selma Black._

Remus put the letter down. He had never expected that. Not many people knew, but it had not been Sirius's betrayal that had driven him out of their home. He had left many months before. It had been something he had never talked about after his friends had died.

Remus walked to the study and after placing the letter in his desk drawer, picked up a piece of parchment and a quill.

_Dear Selma,_

_It is very good to hear from you and I would love to meet up soon._

_However, I can not help you clean out The Den. I have no belongings left there and it would be of no use to me to return, I understand this is a difficult undertaking for you but I would not be able to help you in your task._

_I hope you understand._

_Remus._

Remus read over the letter. He knew it was short and terse, but he had to discourage the girl, and that was never an easy thing. He also realized he hadn't ended the letter as she had but he hadn't felt that emotion for a long time.

Remus walked back into the living room and attached the letter to Star's leg. Once attached, the owl raised herself into the air and glided out the window.

Remus watched the bird disappear into the east and took up his seat again.

It was only an hour later that he had heard a loud knock on the front door. Remus had opened the door and met determined blue eyes, which almost immediately melted on sight of him. 

"Remus!" Selma threw her arms around Remus's neck, and he noticed his letter was still grasped tightly in her hand. He retuned the hug just as tightly and they stood in the doorway for just a moment longer then was necessary. 

"Selma, it's so good to see you," Remus said honestly. As he brought her into the kitchen he suddenly realized how much older she actually was. She was no longer a girl, she wasn't even a young woman; she was just – a woman. "You look so different!" was all he could manage to say.

"Well a decade will do that to a person, Remus." she ran a finger tentatively through his greying hair. "Won't it?"

Remus dipped his head and her hand fell away. He spent so little time with people nowadays that he almost forgot how much he had changed.

They seemed to avoid the reason for Selma's abrupt visit while Remus made some tea. 

"So what else has happened in your life?" he asked.

"Well," she said beaming down at the ring on her finger. "I got married." 

"Married!" Remus exclaimed, "I never thought anyone would be able to calm you down."

"Oh he hasn't," she said with that old mischievous smile. "He just puts up with it a bit more than most." 

"I heard something about it, I'm sure but I wasn't certain when your letter said Selma Black." Remus explained.

Selma looked up at Remus.

"I didn't change my name," she said defiantly, "People expected me to because of Sirius but I'm proud of being a Black." 

Remus looked at her. This was no silly schoolgirl notion. She had spent years with the effects of Sirius's action and she still believed him innocent. Remus sat down and poured her some tea.

"So who's the lucky man?" Remus asked putting a little too much emphasis on the word lucky.

"You'll meet him," Selma promised, "his name's Jacques Leroux."

Remus smiled slightly.

"What?" Selma demanded.

"Leroux?" he said, raising his eyebrows at the name, his smattering of French allowing him the knowledge of its translation.

"I know," she answered, rolling her eyes. "We laugh at it as well but... he's a good man." She turned pensive. "He's been my guiding star."

Remus felt his heat break at the last words; she had always said that of Sirius.

"We have a daughter," she said happily, "Isabella - Izzy, and another on the way." She patted her flat belly.

Remus eyes widened.

"You're a mother!" 

"Hey, I might be likely to take offence at that tone Remus Lupin." She warned. "I am hormonal, you know."

"Sorry," Remus said but she simply smiled at him. 

"What about you?" she asked softly. "Is there anyone special?"

Remus shook his head and took a sip of his own tea. He didn't want her asking questions about his love life; he hardly had a life, never mind a love life.

"Thank you for going to the funeral," she expressed again, "I know it must have been hard, with the full moon so close."

Remus looked up at her; had she checked the lunar charts, he wondered? There were so few people now who knew, or even cared how Remus adjusted at each full moon that her statement surprised him. The transformation had been the night after the funeral and he had found it hard to control himself at the ceremony even though his change was over twenty-four hours away.

Selma reached her hand out and traced a hairline scar that ran across Remus's hand. It disappeared up his sleeve and she let her hand rest on top of it.

"You have many scars?" Selma pressed softly.

"Sometimes scars are a good thing," Remus replied sadly. "They make sure you don't forget the pain."

"You _want_ the pain?" she questioned.

Remus looked up at her and saw those same eyes that had looked at him after the funeral of his friends. The intervening years had done nothing to dull her spirit. She wanted to make him a believer of Sirius but he never could understand her devotion to him.

"Can I ask you something, Remus?" 

"You can ask," Remus replied in a voice that meant she may not get an answer.

"Did you ever forgive him?"

Remus looked away from her now. He swallowed against the dryness in his throat.

"I could only forgive him if he was innocent," Remus said, pulling his hand away, "and I don't think that is possible."

They had talked for hours; talking about Selma's work as an alchemist and her time living in France. She had done some amazing research, Remus discovered, and he seemed strangely impressed that she had managed to grow up so easily through what must have been a hard time for her family.

She didn't mention The Den until she was almost ready to leave. She had not pleaded with him, but had merely made one last request, no strings attached. She had not allowed him to answer her but said that he was welcome if he wished.

Remus had lain in bed that night looking at the ceiling. He already knew what he was going to do the moment she had turned up at his door; he supposed she knew that too. That was why she had come. Remus turned in his bed and wondered what it was about the Blacks that made it so easy for them to read him.

***


	4. Chapter Four

***

Remus heard a soft pop in his ears and he saw the woods to the north of The Den appear in front of his eyes. Remus hadn't wanted to apparate directly into the house. It would have been too overwhelming to feel all those old smells rushing to his senses again after so many years.

For some reason he looked down and rearranged his robes, trying to look a little neater. He laughed at his own actions; who exactly was he trying to impress?

After taking a deep breath Remus started walking in the direction of The Den. It took a few minutes before the woods started to clear and for Remus to see the soft outline of his old home beyond their edges.

Remus stopped when he finally emerged from the woods and allowed himself to drink in the sight before him. 

The Den had been a simple bungalow when Sirius had first found it. It had been in bad need of some tender loving care, but it was on a few acres of land and behind the house was an old stone cottage where Remus could transform. It was perfect for Sirius and Remus.

Remus remembered the excited letter he had received from Sirius the same day he had found the house. It was so full of enthusiasm that Remus had smiled as he read it. It was Sirius who had named the house in that very letter. The Den was a place where wolf and dog could live; where man and man could love. They would be so happy there, Sirius had written; and Remus had believed him effortlessly.

Remus pushed open the black iron gate that guarded the path to the front door. It groaned in protest. He could see the windows were heavy with dust and the paint on the door had begun to peel and blister. The plants they had sown together in the front of the house that first summer were overgrown and choked by weeds. 

Originally there had been only one floor to the house, but Sirius and Remus had raised the roof and added two bedrooms and a large bathroom upstairs. Remus remembered the large clawed bathtub which took residence in the room soon after they had moved in. 

As Remus approached the door of the house he took his wand out to open it, but to his surprise the door opened before him, almost beckoning him inside. Remus stood looking at it for a moment; it still recognized him! Sirius had never repealed the Detection Charm which allowed Remus entrance without announcement.

Inside, the house looked darker then he had ever remembered. Even the late May sun didn't seem to penetrate the big windows, and Remus wasn't really surprised considering how filthy they were. He took a moment to look around before he pocketed his wand and walked through the door.

His feet picked up dust from the floor, which billowed into the pungent house air. He coughed as some got into his mouth.

His first reaction was to walk into the living room and pry open the two large stiff windows, allowing air to circulate. He then did the same in the kitchen. It wouldn't be long before the place at least smelled a bit cleaner, he thought. He was about to go upstairs, but was stopped by a noise coming from the living room. 

Gingerly he poked his head around the corner. He knew what he was going to see and he felt almost embarrassed at how easy he had been to convince but she didn't comment on his attendance. She just smiled that sweet school girl smile across her womanly face and they went back to work.

Somehow it was decided that Remus should take the rooms upstairs as these were the more personal of the house, and Selma would work through the shelves and cupboards that lined the living room and kitchen.

Even walking up the stairs was difficult for Remus. The seventh step still creaked and he almost forgot to duck his head just as he reached the top and narrowly missed the strangely lowered ceiling at that point.

His hand was still protectively on his head when Remus's eyes fell onto the door to the master bedroom. He stood and looked at it for what seemed close to forever before deciding to start at the end of the hallway. The bathroom wouldn't hold as many memories, he supposed.

Remus did a u-turn around the banisters and walked down the landing to the bathroom. The door opened easily and he was greeted instantly by the musty decaying smell of the house mixed with soap, citrus and the dampness.

Bottle caps had been left off, and the remains of creams and emulsions were dried to the bottom of many bottles. A half used soap bar sat abandoned in its dish and a mouldy towel was flung over the side of the bath. Damp had crept up from the floor, and there were distinct marks of mildew spawning from the corners of the room and across the walls.

Remus crinkled his nose. What exactly to salvage from this room, he did not know. He summoned a box from downstairs, and taking a step forward decided that opening the windows in here would be a good idea also. 

The room, which was at least twice the size of the one at Lupin Lodge, took up the whole front of The Den's upper floor. It was an indulgence, Remus realized now, that they had given themselves easily.

As prolonged as Remus tried to make the exercise of clearing and cleaning the bathroom, there was only so much a room could take, and unless he wasn't going to use magic he would finish it fairly quickly. He knew that not using magic would be an evident indication of how hard he was finding this, and he didn't want to admit that; not even to himself.

The smaller bedroom really didn't hold much. They had furnished it for the occasional visitor or for friends who were too tired or drunk to Apparate or Floo home themselves. Even so Remus opened the wardrobe and found a couple of moths fly at him before escaping through the recently opened window. The bed sheets were grubby and chewed so he stripped the bed and placed the covers in the same box he had put the mouldy towel from the bathroom. He sat on the naked bed and remembered the night before James and Lily's wedding. Sirius had made them apparate to a small village he had found just outside Prague. He insisted that it was his duty, as best man, to ensure they could have a good time without worrying about stories getting back to Lily. As the night had worn on and the others had all gotten increasingly intoxicated, Remus had wondered how exactly they would get back to England without splinching themselves. In the end they had to Floo from border to border before finally catching a late Channel broom flight to London. 

They had almost overslept the next morning, waking only an hour before the ceremony was scheduled to take place. It had taken James thirty minutes just to get into his wedding robes, and a hung over Sirius still couldn't remember where he had left the rings up to five minutes before leaving the house. 

Remus looked around the spare room again. It had been a safety measure as well, he conceded. Sirius and he could live together but if people realised that they _lived together, it would have been a different matter. Remus shook his head at the intolerance he had to endure in his life. If not for being a werewolf then for being gay! Some things had changed in the last decade but it was boiling under the surface of the wizarding community. There were few who could openly admit that they completely understood what Remus had been through and perhaps that was why he liked Selma so much. She knew who he was – what he was – and it didn't change how she treated him._

Only when he could no longer postpone the task did Remus walk towards the master bedroom and slowly push the door open.

Even thought the rest of the house had been dark, this room danced with the light that was pouring through the windows. It had been Sirius's choice to make this the master bedroom. He loved the morning light, and the room faced south with windows on three of its four walls. It meant that the room got the light from outside all day long, and from sunrise to sunset they had enjoyed the changing colours and emotions of that light as they had lain in bed together. 

As Remus walked through the room he hadn't stepped foot in for over a decade, he found himself running a hand over the large four-poster bed. This, he now conceded, had been there biggest indulgence. He remembered saying that he didn't care if the rest of the house was completely bare once they had their own four poster bed. 

It had been something he had wanted ever since their first kiss, ever since they had first slept side-by-side, arms wrapped around each other's bodies. It had not been about sex that first time, even though – well – even though it had. It was about so much more then that. It was about the possibility. The need of each body and how the other could satisfy. It was about not having to hide behind curtains or sneaking away to be together. It was about just being themselves... about being themselves together.

Their bed had said that so much simpler and easier then anything else could. Their house, their room, their bed!

Remus didn't want to take the time in this room that he had in the others. He stripped the bed, making it seem so naked, and allowed a Cleaning Charm to begin its work. He pulled opened the packed top drawer of the dresser and put all the clothes into a bag before proceeding to the second drawer.

Remus was surprised to find it empty and it took him only a few seconds to realize that this had been his drawer. In a moment of perplexity Remus crossed the room and pulled open the door to the wardrobe. On the left hand side hung a number of cloaks and some Muggle clothes. On the right... nothing. Half of the wardrobe lay empty before him. His half! 

Sirius had never taken over Remus's space. He had left it all in preparation of his return. Had he been that certain that I would return, Remus asked himself.

Remus threw the clothes into a bag and closed the wardrobe again. He pulled open drawers and threw books into boxes. Pages full of Sirius writings were flung across the room. Potion vials, magical items, even a bag of ageing sweets flew through the air as Remus pulled the room apart.

He needed to get this over with quickly. He couldn't handle being in this room and being able to smell Sirius again. Oh yes, he told himself, you can smell him! Under the staleness and the filth you can smell his musky odour. The way it used to arouse you, and you would give into the animal inside of you. 

"Stop it!" Remus told himself, but it was too late. His mind was already travelling backwards, remembering the hours they would spend together, bodies locked into each other. He had been unable to feel anything but a pure primal instinct to dominate his partner. He remembered the marks they would leave on each others skin as they fought towards ecstasy. They way he would lose himself in the moments of complete control over Sirius, when he could feel the wolf pulling inside of him.

Just then Remus heard Selma's voice travel from the bottom of the stairs.

"I'm going to make something to eat, Remus," she called, "Do you want a sandwich?"

"Yeah," Remus shouted back, trying to force his memories away. "I'll be down in a minute."

With a flick of his wand the rest of the clothes flew into bag on the floor. Remus quickly checked the rest of the room for any belongings, and without looking at them too closely, placed them in bags as well. He didn't want to come back up those stairs again, he told himself.

After a few minutes he levitated the bags down the stairs in front of him and let them rest in the hallway.

The kitchen was directly below the master bedroom and just as big. As he entered he was glad of the daylight streaming in, and so he took a seat nearest the open window. The light breeze caressed his face and it seemed to ease him emotions again. He needed to get back to the Lodge, he knew this at least.

"How's it going?" Selma asked as she placed a sandwich and a cup of tea in front of him.

"Finished," he answered taking a sip of the tea.

"Already?" Selma asked.

"Well it's mostly clothes, so it doesn't take that much sorting. I've left a Cleaning Charm to finish off." Remus tried to sound nonchalant, though he was sure it hadn't worked.

"Oh," Selma said sitting down beside him. "Well I guess you got the easier task then." She took a bit of her sandwich and slowly chewed and swallowed. "It's strange being here and not having Sirius fooling around." She smiled sadly. "I remember your house warming party. I was sneaking punch the whole night... Fourteen and I was completely soused."

"I bet your mother wasn't very happy when you Flooed home!" Remus said, trying to join in the conversation. Selma shook her head.

"Not at all! I can't believe I might have to deal with that when Izzy gets older." She raised her eyebrows in wonder at the thought. She easily shook her head in amazement then looked up at Remus as she remembered something "You know James and Lily's son should be starting at Hogwarts this year."

Remus raised his eyes and stared at her. Had it really been that long? The last time Remus had seen Harry, he was barely walking, and now he was about to start school.

"I didn't," Remus stumbled on his words, "it won't be easy for him... being _the_ Harry Potter."

"No, I guess not." Selma said softly then remembered something. "There are a few books I think might be yours," she offered, "There's one on Healing Potions and an encyclopaedia on wizarding legends." She began to get out of her seat to get them, but Remus's voice pushed her back down.

"They're not mine." He told her, "I... I moved out before -" He rethought his words, then said, "There's nothing of mine left here."

Selma looked at him with questioning eyes, but Remus didn't meet her gaze.

"You had moved out before it... happened?" asked Selma.

Remus nodded.

"But... I thought... I don't understand."

"I can't explain it, Selma, I just had to move out. It was for the best."

"Oh," Selma said quietly, "Sirius never told me."

"He didn't?" Remus asked surprised.

Selma shook her head.

"I thought he told you everything," said Remus.

"So did I," whispered Selma, looking down at her tea.

All of a sudden, she looked like a girl again to Remus. A girl sitting in the Hogwarts headmaster's office, crying her eyes out because her cousin was gone forever. Remus hated himself for making her doubt Sirius's affection towards her. In spite of everything else Remus felt, he knew that for her it had to be real.

After a moment she raised her head again and her face was not tired or sad, but seemed to be somewhat rested, even though her eyes betrayed that emotion.

"Can I ask you something?" Selma said.

Remus sighed.

"I'm not trying to pry," she added, "It's just... I remember Sirius saying that he wanted you to live together so he could spend the full moon with you."

Remus froze.

"What did he mean? He couldn't spend the full moon with you, not when you transform, I mean."

"Sirius was never there," Remus interrupted, and it was true. It had been Padfoot who spent the full moons with Moony, but he could never tell Selma that. Even now he couldn't break the pact the four of them had made so many years ago. It was only after months of discussion that they had allowed James to tell Lily, but that had been an exception and Remus couldn't exactly ask their permission now. 

"Then..." Selma's eyes said the rest.

"Sirius would be there before I transformed," Remus explained trying very hard not to lie, but also not to give away the real truth, "and he would help me afterwards... I guess that's what he meant. Don't ask me to analyse his words after so long, Selma."

Selma fingered her cup like she was pondering his words very seriously.

"So did that help? Did it help you, I mean?"

"In some ways," Remus responded, feeling like he was walking a thin line now.

"But the transformations are just as bad as ever. Just as violent?" her eyes still down.

"If you want to know what it's like to be a werewolf, then just say it, Selma." Remus said, exasperated.

Selma's eyes finally left the cup and challenged Remus's.

"I'm not asking out of curiosity, Remus, I'm trying to help you!" she defended.

"How can you do that?" Remus demanded. "There is no cure for lycanthropy!"

"No..." Selma said but her voice seemed to lead somewhere. "But Jacques and I have been working on something for the last few years... actually I think I've been working on it ever since I found out you were a werewolf. It might help you. Once we get it right."

"What are you talking about?"

"We're trying to make a potion using monkshood."

"Monkshood!" Remus interrupted, "you mean wolfsbane."

Selma nodded.

"Are you trying to kill me, Selma, or have you forgotten how that affects werewolves?" Remus asked in amazement. 

"I know what pure wolfsbane does, Remus," she said, annoyance ringing in her tone, "I have actually studied Alchemy for quite a while longer then you and to a much better effect, I might add."

This shut Remus up, but Selma seemed to regret the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. That old Black magic.

"Look, I shouldn't even be telling you this, but you're the reason I wanted to figure it out." She explained. "I know how bad it was for you before Sirius was put in Azkaban and it can't have gotten better since then. The potion can't cure lycanthropy, but if it works it'll prevent the extremely dangerous dementia and pain which come with the transformation."

"Right," was all Remus could say. "But basically it'll poison me."

"Not you, just the wolf."

Remus just looked at Selma.

"Don't you understand what I'm saying, Remus?" Selma implored. "You wouldn't have to loose your mind, you wouldn't want to attack humans... or anything for that matter."

"I know!" Remus said pinching his bridge. "But I can't let myself believe it, Selma... do you know how many times I wished for that? I can't be cured, but to be able to live without the fear of putting others in danger... Even the few time I managed to find some kind of happiness..." he stopped, "Not happiness, just to not be as unhappy it was still dangerous for me, dangerous for anyone around me. As much as I don't want that... I don't want to die either. Maybe a few years ago I would have taken it gladly, but you said yourself it's not perfect."

"Oh god, Remus, I never meant for you to be a test subject," Selma said suddenly realizing how it must have sounded to him. "I just wanted to let you know that there may be another option."

"Who is going to be your _test subject_ then..." Remus said defensively, "We are people you know, Selma. As much as some don't want to admit it. As much as they just want to mark us out as freaks of nature and kill us all off."

"Why are you attacking me?" she half-shouted, "I'm _trying to help you."_

This outburst made Remus pull back his emotions. Why was he attacking her? Perhaps she didn't understand completely what he went through, but she had always accepted him, just as Peter, Sirius and James had. 

"I'm sorry," he said leaning towards her, "I guess I'm not use to people being... nice about my _condition_."

She nodded slowly taking this in. She was trying to accept his apology, he could see that, but it was hard to forgive immediately. After a few moments she relaxed her grip on her teacup.

"I found some photos," she said retrieving a box from the counter and placing it on the table, "I though you'd like to see them."

Remus looked down at the box to see James and Peter waving up at him. It had been the summer before seventh year, and they had spent two weeks at the Potters' before returning to school. In the background was the skeleton of a bike, which Sirius was determined to get working by the end of the year.

"I'm going to try and finish things off inside," Selma said before leaving Remus alone in the kitchen.

Remus picked up a handful of the photos and flicked through them. There were more from school, a few graduation photos, the '78 Quidditch World Cup, James and Lily's wedding, and a single one of Remus looking somewhat put out at being made pose for the photo alone.

Remus flicked through them trying not to linger on any in case it brought back memories. He seemed to achieve this until he came to one he hadn't seen before. He recognized the couch as being the one in James and Lily's living room, but he was sure he hadn't been present when this one was taken.

Sirius was spread out on the couch, his head resting on the right arm rest. His eyes were closed and he must have been dozing off in the evening light. His arms were held protectively around a small figure on his chest. Wearing a light blue baby grow, Harry was snuggled safely into Sirius's chest, sleeping soundly as his godfather's chest rose and fell softly underneath him. They were both so at peace that it felt like an intrusion to be just looking at the photograph. Baby Harry moved silently and, turning his head, he placed a thumb in his mouth before slumbering again. He couldn't have been much older then one, Remus thought, so small and defenceless, yet feeling completely safe in his cocoon. 

Remus shook his head grimly. He wasn't defenceless it had turned out, and neither had he been safe in Sirius's arms. Remus had been so sure that Sirius would never harm Harry, but he had ended up orphaning his own godson. 

Remus heard Selma returning from the other room and quickly put the photo under the rest of the pile. He turned to greet her face as she walked in.

"Do you know who 'Moony' is?" she asked.

Remus looked at her surprised.

"It's me!" he exclaimed, feeling confused. How did she know his old moniker?

"You?"

"Yeah," he replied, "it was a nickname... you know, werewolf, full moon... Moony!" He was trying to sound like this was the only nickname they had. Mentioning the others would only bring more questions. "Why?"

She pulled out an envelope from the box that was jammed between her left arm and hip and looked at it briefly.

"I guess this is yours then," she said as she handed it to him and walked back to the living room.

Remus looked after her for a moment, but when he heard her continue her work his eyes fell on the letter in his hands. He looked at the name scrawled across the envelope and knew instantly that it was Sirius's writing. He wasn't sure if he wanted to read it or not. He didn't even know what it was, or when it had been written.

After a minute he turned the letter over and pulled up the flap. The same writing was on the pages inside.

_Dear Moony,_

_It won't be long until you're home, so I wanted to write this quickly. It seems strange to think about the number of letters I have written to you when I should have just told you how I felt, but I have never been good with words. Only actions. I always said that I would prove my love to you in my actions. I think I must have failed that after what you asked me last night. _

_So now I have to answer what I couldn't last night and this is how I know to do it best. I find it easier to stumble over words them over my quill. Somehow, with these eagle feathers between my fingers, I become more expressive. I'm become able to explain my feelings in a way I never can in day to day life._

_You asked me if you'd ever hurt me, I said no. You said physically, I said no. You said during sex, I said no! You said you knew you were rough and I had to be honest, I said no. Then you left for work this morning without saying goodbye. I hate waking up and you not being there. _

_What is it, Moony, what is wrong? _

_When you came home yesterday I knew _something_ was wrong. I thought it was me, something I had done. What did I do, Moony? What was it that made you so quiet... so scared? You looked so pale. I've never seen you like that before, and you wouldn't talk to me! There is nothing we can't face together. I told you I would always be there for you. I will do anything to make you happy. You have saved me from myself, and given me back to myself. My whole life I have wanted someone to love me the way you do. _

_I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. For passing over all the foolish, weak things that you can't help dimly seeing there and for drawing out into the light all the beautiful belongings that no one else looked quite far enough to find._

_Hurry home my darling Moony, I need you near._

_All my love_

_Sirius._

Remus looked at the date on the letter and knew why he had never received it. He knew why Sirius had woken up alone. Remus had never come home after that night. He had moved out without explanation or excuse. It had been for the best.

***

Remus had gone back to the Lodge at the end of the day. Selma wanted to make dinner but Remus told her he was so tired that he wanted to just have a bath and go to bed. 

He sat in front of the fire and once again watched the flames dancing for him. After a long time he pulled out an old photograph, which he had slipped inside his robes earlier that day. He sat for the rest evening watching the gentle rise and fall of a sleeping man.

***

Thanks for reading... please review. 

Author's note: The last paragraph of Sirius's letter is from a piece I think is entitled 'I love you' by Roy Croft. I discovered it many year ago and thought it was the most wonderful description of how someone can fundamentally change the way you feel about yourself by just loving you. 


End file.
